[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
guys might want to know, we found a body on the second floor.
There were four people inside? I ask. They told me there were only
three.
It s Tronstad.
Jesus. Are you sure?
Yeah. The wallet in his hip pocket didn t take that much damage.
This the guy you just told us about? the older FBI agent asks. The
one who set this fire?
Yes, sir. I am dismayed at the use of the word sir. I know it makes me
look suspicious to be overly submissive here.
He s dead?
LaSalle nods. He was acting crazy last night. He set two fires that we
know about.
LaSalle looks at the three of us in turn. We are quiet. I am because I
know the jig is up, that I am going to jail in a few minutes, and later, after
the trial, to prison. The two agents are because they are about to break the
back of a major conspiracy. You guys want to see the body?
The agents nod and follow LaSalle toward the house. Before they ve
gone too far, LaSalle gestures in my direction and says, You guys realize
you were talking here to the man who s made the most single-handed res-
cues of any firefighter in department history? Both agents turn back and
ogle me while continuing to walk toward the house. Hard to know if I am
looking guilty, heroic, or dim-witted, though I feel the latter more than
anything.
Awaiting my fate, I loiter at the edge of the yard in the blinding sun-
shine while firefighters straggle out of the house in ones and twos, heads
hung low. Tears streaking her broad cheeks and mingling with traces of
soot, Stanislow comes over to me. The guys on her shift call her pigpen be-
cause of her uncanny ability to accumulate dirt just about anywhere.
She steps close and gives me a hug, snorting into my ear as she weeps.
300 E A R L E ME R S ON
He s gone, Gum. Tronstad s up there on his face. He s dead. There was so
much debris stuck to his PASS, we couldn t hear it.
Chief Mortimer shows up before the FBI and our two fire investiga-
tors are out of the fire building, bustles over to the Ladder 11 crew, and
exchanges a few words. How the hell could we lose a firefighter and not
even know it? This is unacceptable! There s no excuse for this sort of in-
competence. As if aware that the surest source of incompetence on the
fire ground is me, he says, Gum! What the hell went on here? How could
you people lose a firefighter and not know it? Goddamn it! Answer me!
It s Ted Tronstad, sir. He wasn t working yesterday.
What do you mean, he wasn t working? How the hell did he get in
that house, all burned to shit, if he wasn t working?
He set the fire.
Chief Mortimer grows quiet, then moves to the front door and waits
until the two FBI agents come out, exchanges words with them, and then
watches them walk purposefully to their vehicle, climb in, and drive away.
They seem to have forgotten about me.
I remain in the yard, waiting to get handcuffed. Thirty minutes later
I am still waiting when the chief of the department and his entourage
show up. Shortly thereafter, the Pedersons come back and the police
begin questioning Bernard and Iola. After a while, Sonja comes over to
where I am standing.
Gum.
Sonja.
Somebody died in there?
The man who set the fire.
Bernard s telling them he thinks the dead man was somebody Iola
jilted. Is that possible?
Anything s possible.
That he came here for revenge. You knew him pretty well, didn t
you?
You never know anybody very well.
I think I know you.
I wouldn t bet anything important on it.
T HE S MOK E R O OM 301
Bernard s going to get an attorney. Iola s pleading ignorance. And I
sure as hell don t know what s going on.
Neither do I.
They say, when threatened, human beings react in one of five ways:
fight, flight, freeze, fidget, or faint. I believe I found another F to add to
the panoply of human reaction falsehood. It has become my weapon of
choice.
After another ten minutes elapse, I tell LaSalle I m leaving. Sure,
man. You had a rough night. These guys are taking over. They have any
questions, they know where to find you. It looks like we re going to tie this
in with that car bombing last week, the house fire on Beach Drive, and
about six grass fires last night. It s beginning to look like he just cracked.
People do that.
Yeah. They do.
Out of sight of Bernard and Iola, who are both on borrowed cell
phones, I kiss Sonja good-bye and walk to my car. I drive up Bonair at
speed, then wait at the top of the hill to see if anybody is following. They
aren t. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
guys might want to know, we found a body on the second floor.
There were four people inside? I ask. They told me there were only
three.
It s Tronstad.
Jesus. Are you sure?
Yeah. The wallet in his hip pocket didn t take that much damage.
This the guy you just told us about? the older FBI agent asks. The
one who set this fire?
Yes, sir. I am dismayed at the use of the word sir. I know it makes me
look suspicious to be overly submissive here.
He s dead?
LaSalle nods. He was acting crazy last night. He set two fires that we
know about.
LaSalle looks at the three of us in turn. We are quiet. I am because I
know the jig is up, that I am going to jail in a few minutes, and later, after
the trial, to prison. The two agents are because they are about to break the
back of a major conspiracy. You guys want to see the body?
The agents nod and follow LaSalle toward the house. Before they ve
gone too far, LaSalle gestures in my direction and says, You guys realize
you were talking here to the man who s made the most single-handed res-
cues of any firefighter in department history? Both agents turn back and
ogle me while continuing to walk toward the house. Hard to know if I am
looking guilty, heroic, or dim-witted, though I feel the latter more than
anything.
Awaiting my fate, I loiter at the edge of the yard in the blinding sun-
shine while firefighters straggle out of the house in ones and twos, heads
hung low. Tears streaking her broad cheeks and mingling with traces of
soot, Stanislow comes over to me. The guys on her shift call her pigpen be-
cause of her uncanny ability to accumulate dirt just about anywhere.
She steps close and gives me a hug, snorting into my ear as she weeps.
300 E A R L E ME R S ON
He s gone, Gum. Tronstad s up there on his face. He s dead. There was so
much debris stuck to his PASS, we couldn t hear it.
Chief Mortimer shows up before the FBI and our two fire investiga-
tors are out of the fire building, bustles over to the Ladder 11 crew, and
exchanges a few words. How the hell could we lose a firefighter and not
even know it? This is unacceptable! There s no excuse for this sort of in-
competence. As if aware that the surest source of incompetence on the
fire ground is me, he says, Gum! What the hell went on here? How could
you people lose a firefighter and not know it? Goddamn it! Answer me!
It s Ted Tronstad, sir. He wasn t working yesterday.
What do you mean, he wasn t working? How the hell did he get in
that house, all burned to shit, if he wasn t working?
He set the fire.
Chief Mortimer grows quiet, then moves to the front door and waits
until the two FBI agents come out, exchanges words with them, and then
watches them walk purposefully to their vehicle, climb in, and drive away.
They seem to have forgotten about me.
I remain in the yard, waiting to get handcuffed. Thirty minutes later
I am still waiting when the chief of the department and his entourage
show up. Shortly thereafter, the Pedersons come back and the police
begin questioning Bernard and Iola. After a while, Sonja comes over to
where I am standing.
Gum.
Sonja.
Somebody died in there?
The man who set the fire.
Bernard s telling them he thinks the dead man was somebody Iola
jilted. Is that possible?
Anything s possible.
That he came here for revenge. You knew him pretty well, didn t
you?
You never know anybody very well.
I think I know you.
I wouldn t bet anything important on it.
T HE S MOK E R O OM 301
Bernard s going to get an attorney. Iola s pleading ignorance. And I
sure as hell don t know what s going on.
Neither do I.
They say, when threatened, human beings react in one of five ways:
fight, flight, freeze, fidget, or faint. I believe I found another F to add to
the panoply of human reaction falsehood. It has become my weapon of
choice.
After another ten minutes elapse, I tell LaSalle I m leaving. Sure,
man. You had a rough night. These guys are taking over. They have any
questions, they know where to find you. It looks like we re going to tie this
in with that car bombing last week, the house fire on Beach Drive, and
about six grass fires last night. It s beginning to look like he just cracked.
People do that.
Yeah. They do.
Out of sight of Bernard and Iola, who are both on borrowed cell
phones, I kiss Sonja good-bye and walk to my car. I drive up Bonair at
speed, then wait at the top of the hill to see if anybody is following. They
aren t. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]